I Can Spend Hours Browsing In Bookshops

Oh Knickers... I needed some time out from the office and I was in Waterstones bookshop in Warrington at lunchtime. I was wearing a grey business suit over black stockings and high-heel pumps feeling smart but not at all provocative. I was looking for a collection of Shel Silverstein poems for my niece and discovered that the poetry books were located on the bottom shelf in the children's section; so there I was crouched down, trying to retain some decorum as I was aware of my skirt riding up, when I suddenly became aware of a man sitting with a child (grandchild?) who was colouring in a picture sheet at the table nearby. I smiled to myself as I realised his eyes were locked on my stocking tops which by then were just peeking below my skirt hem.

Surreptitiously, I looked around and there was no one else in that section so, making eye contact with the man and smiling at him at the same time, I shuffled my position, transferring from one foot to the other, knowing that he would see a glimpse of thigh. Well, talk about rabbit caught in the headlights... he looked utterly flustered, turned bright red and began helping the girl with her colouring, obviously mortified to have been caught staring. Laughing to myself, I shook my head slightly and continued with my search, wondering why poetry was on the bottom shelf and musing about what one finds on the top shelf of a children's bookshop. And then I caught the flash out of the corner of my eye!

My admirer was taking pictures of his charge with his phone... At least, that's what it appeared like; except I was obviously in the background. I thought about being angry, but then he flashed me a brilliant smile and I just couldn't be cross, so I gave him a kind of exasperated smirk, raised my eyebrows and turned a little towards him on my heels, giving him a 'go on then' gesture. The man looked around as if not quite believing I meant him. Then, a broad grin on his face, he pointed the phone right at me. I almost felt the flash like a breeze against my legs and I wondered if perhaps I had parted my thighs a little too much; then I jumped up, blew him a kiss and left, wondering what secrets the pictures would reveal.